Accidents
by Siniscule
Summary: Maki Nishikino is a stressed and single woman just trying to make it on time to her best friends' wedding. But, when she opens the door to greet the Plus-One she hired, she's shocked to find that, instead of the boy she had ordered, there is a woman on her doorstep.


**A/N: This fanfic is dedicated to my friend on her birthday! You know who you are, hon.**

* * *

 **Accidents**

* * *

"You've got to be kidding," you breathe out, your mouth gaping as you hold the door open.

"Is there a problem? Is this not the right address?" the girl asks, pulling up her hand and inspecting her palm with squinting eyes. You twitch, unnerved by the thought that your address is written on her skin.

You grit your teeth, "Unfortunately, it is."

It is hard for you not to scream at how ridiculous this issue is. If it wasn't bad enough that you paid for the wrong gender to be your plus-one for the wedding you are attending, it certainly is worse that the girl they sent looks like a pigtailed runt. She is short in height and so flat that you aren't even shocked that she needs a dress with straps, and you briefly wonder how similar "wedding" and "junior prom" might sound over the phone.

"Do you not want me?" the girl's eyes rise above her palms to meet yours, and you can't help but look away at her choice of words. The accusation is technically correct, but you genuinely doubt that the fault is her own.

"Th-That's not it, it's just – "

She cuts you short as she crosses her arms and glares at you, "It's a yes or no question."

"Fine, the answer is no. I don't want you," you huff out impatiently, fixing the rose hairclip in your red tresses that began to droop as a result.

The girl scoffs and shrugs, grumbling something along the lines of "wasted gas for no pay" as she walks back toward the road and further away from your estate.

You can't help but instantly feel guilty as you watch the frilly ends of her dress sway, and a quick glance at the time on your cell phone brings you to a hasty conclusion.

"Wait!" you call out, grabbing your clutch and shutting the door behind you before running after her.

"I get it, you don't want me, it's fine," she calls out passive aggressively, waving her hand dismissively over her shoulder as she steps into the driver's seat of her sedan.

Your hand is fast as it catches the door handle, pulling back so that the door remains open. The girl looks between you and the door, her mouth contorting into a frown as she tries to pull the door shut despite your evident strength.

"What the hell is your problem?! This is a rental!"

"Just because I don't want you doesn't mean I don't need you," you blurt out hurriedly, relaxing your grip along with hers until you begin to breathe heavily. You can feel yourself blushing; the dramatic display was not exactly necessary on your part, after all.

It is disturbing how fast her frown morphs into a grin, but you feel relieved when she unlocks the passenger door.

"Well, then, what are you waiting for?" she asks, her smile uncomfortably cheery.

You deadpan, "Are you bipolar?"

"No," she glares, "I'm Nico Yazawa, actually. And who are you?"

"Maki Nishikino," you sigh, taking a step back and heading around the car toward the passenger seat. Upon sitting down, you wrinkle your nose, "Why does it smell like stale food?"

Nico shrugs, "I didn't realize the Chinese was that old."

"You just ate Chinese food? We're going to a wedding."

"You're paying me to attend, not to eat. Frankly, my leftovers are better. Those hall places usually have, like, dry chicken tenders or two-inch slabs of meat with five fries, anyway," Nico laughs, starting the engine before accelerating.

Her driving is a little too fast for your liking, but checking the time on your phone reminds you to care a little less. The cherry blossom petals floating by in the gentle breeze catches your attention as you lean against the window. This whole situation makes you a tad anxious; after all, you're being driven by a stranger, and that's without the sketchy fact that the service you hired got you the wrong kind of stranger.

"So what was wrong with me, anyway?" Nico suddenly asks, as though she read your mind, and you glance at her from the corner of your eye. Aside from a few grimaces at near-collisions and some road rage induced shouts, she keeps a fairly unreadable neutral expression.

You shrug, "I just hired a man, that's all. The person I called must have just mixed it up."

"Oh, you probably got Nozomi, then!" Nico chuckled, although you can't see what is so funny about it, "She tends to mix orders up."

"Shouldn't she, uh," you raise an eyebrow, "be fired, then?"

"Nah, she has a great track record," Nico shrugs, "and never a single complaint."

You grumble, "She's about to get her first."

"Hey," Nico said, slowing down at a stop light and snapping her finger toward you until you direct your full attention to her, "I'm going to give you a good time, don't worry."

You blush, "I didn't accidentally call a brothel, did I?"

You aren't sure why you're extremely satisfied by the sudden crimson adorning her cheeks or why you find it a bit cute. She opens and closes her mouth repeatedly, making incomprehensible noises and fumbling over words that don't seem to come out.

She settles for a sharp, high pitched, "No!"

Sniggering, you clarify, "Just checking."

Nico exhales a short "hmph" before accelerating again, returning her focus to the road ahead despite her blush. You smirk at the sight, wondering if she is usually this easy to mess with. Then again, you aren't one to talk.

"So, like, are you insecure or something?" Nico asks after regaining her composure.

You squint, "Absolutely not. What makes you think that?"

"Well, you were upset that you got a woman and not a man, even though I doubt it matters and I'm pretty sure you're never _required_ to bring a plus-one," Nico shrugs, acting aloof as though she hadn't been sputtering moments before.

"I didn't pay for you to interrogate me," you reply, somewhat irritated.

Nico smirks, "You didn't mean to pay for _me_ at all."

"That's your friend's fault!"

"Okay, fine. But are you sure I'm alright as your partner? If this is some homophobic thing, then I'd rather not put you or myself at risk," Nico says, turning her head and making eye contact with you. There's something in your chest that hums pleasantly when the sincerity in her gaze meets your own, and you relax the muscles in your face. There is a security in her stare, a feeling that sucks you into a realm of vulnerability like a vortex, but you aren't sure why.

You shake your head, "It's not, I promise."

"Great," she smiles, in such a way that your heart begins to pound, "then I'm sure we'll be fine."

"I hope," you sigh.

"You can count on it."

 **X-X-X-X-X**

"Well, I can see why this isn't a homophobic thing," Nico says, staring at sign above the banquet hall. It's a beautifully bordered canvas with the words "Welcome to the Wedding of Rin Hoshizora and Hanayo Koizumi," and there is a small folding sign that depicts a shot from the newlyweds' photo shoot near the doors. The picture is cute beyond description, with Hanayo laughing in Rin's arms under the thick brush of a forest canopy, with the latter smiling at Hanayo with eyes full of a love you aren't even sure you could ever comprehend. The building is huge and dedicated solely for large events such as these, a venue adorned in bronze and crimson. There are pillars lining up to the entrance, decorative banners hanging in a welcoming manner as valets politely take responsibility over the guests' vehicles.

You crack a smile at Nico after you, too, observe the sign, "Told you it wouldn't be."

You both exit the sedan, and you can't help but deadpan at the extreme hesitance Nico has toward giving the valet her keys. He appears more anxious and troubled as she continues to insist that she needs no valet, but you step between them to assure the young man that it is alright. Forcibly yanking Nico's keys out of her hand, you hand them over to him and quickly start shoving her toward the front doors.

"Oi, those were my keys!"

"Can we just get inside, please?" you groan, giving the ushers a polite nod as they open the door for you to enter. Nico halts in the lobby, seemingly taken aback by her surroundings as she slowly spins in place beneath a grandiose chandelier.

"Amazing!" she compliments, excitedly looking everywhere.

You roll your eyes, "Isn't this your job?"

"Uh," she scratches her cheek as she turns to you, "Well, I'm actually not hired often."

Surprised, you ask, "Why?"

"Let's not talk about that," she says, smiling again suddenly as she heads off further into the venue. You follow behind, suppressing your curiosity in order to keep an eye out for the seating cards. The halls are somewhat overwhelming, even for you, and you can't help but force yourself to avoid eye contact with the mirrored décor and ornate Renaissance and Baroque paintings occupying even the smallest of spaces. The marble floor echoes your arrival, causing you to feel somewhat self-conscious as you approach a long table with rows of name cards.

"Bingo," you whisper to yourself, ignoring the way Nico has stopped to check a nearby vase in order to find the place card. The words "Maki Nishikino and Guest – Table 9" jump out at you, finally, and you pick it up.

"You found my card, too?" Nico asks, gathering your attention as she walks up beside you.

Glancing between the card in your hand and Nico, your mind begins to wander into a daydream. She arrives with you as _actually planned_ as opposed to by mistake, your arms linked while in the midst of laughter, before you both find two separate cards with your names written on them.

You shut your eyes and shake your head abruptly, forcing the strange image out of your mind.

"Damn, I don't even get a card?" Nico says, your eyes opening only to find her pouting as she looks at the paper in your hand.

You offer an apologetic smile, "You weren't exactly planned."

"Yeah," she waves her hand casually, "I guess that's a good enough excuse. Anyway, where is everybody? It's dead in here."

"Well, we're here for the wedding and the reception, I just wanted to get my place card for the reception now."

"So we're not supposed to be in here yet?" Nico asks, confused.

"Not exactly," you say, slowly, "But the wedding is right outside. Everything is here at this place, it's just I wanted… to know where I had to sit beforehand."

Nico raises an eyebrow, "You couldn't wait?"

You rub your arm, "I get a little anxious if I feel like I'm taking too long looking for my card."

"Well," Nico chuckles, "I'll beat up anyone who says it's a problem. Well, not that it will be, since you already got the table number and all, but I _would_ have."

"Thanks," you fidget a bit in place, "I'm sure you could have."

She frowns, "Is that sarcasm?"

"No."

"Good," she says with a snap, grabbing your hand before pulling you toward the dining hall. You do your best to ignore the way your chest feels when her fingers subtly caress the skin of your hand, but you both are distracted as you find yourselves amongst the hundreds of tables. The dance floor is impeccable, huge and polished as it waits to be used. There are large curtains hanging here and there, giving an eloquent feel to the hall. On opposite sides of the room are large, French double doors leading outside – one to a balcony overlooking a nearby lake while the other leads to a staircase out into a garden.

"Shit," you mutter as you notice your friends Rin and Hanayo facing each other in front of a man outside of the garden entrance.

Nico hums, "What?"

"I knew we were late," you groan, "The actual wedding has started already!"

"Really? How do you know?" Nico asks, turning as though ready to dash. You point to the garden doorway, nodding understandably when Nico's eyes widen and she ducks behind a table. She looks over to you, gesturing toward the door, "Do you think they can see us?!"

"I don't know, let's just go!"

And then the running starts. You've always felt as though returning feels shorter than going, at least on the road, but it goes to show that the world is against you when, for once in your life when time is beating you down, retracing your steps proves to be a somewhat difficult process.

"Wasn't it that way?" Nico asks from behind, chasing after you as you two run down one of the many halls.

You're lost, so you give her the benefit of the doubt. You try to put your foot down in order to turn on the heel of your flats, but, as you spin around to head back, you can feel yourself losing balance. It doesn't help that Nico didn't expect the sudden change, her expression that of shock as she attempts to halt. Her failure leaves an impact – quite literally – as she slides into you in a collision that ends up with you on your back and her on top.

"Ow," you grumble, glaring at her after collecting yourself.

Nico's brow scrunches up, "You can't blame that on me."

"I…" you feel your ears warm up as you smell her strawberry breath upon your skin, her close proximity suddenly too noticeable, "… know."

"You okay?" she asks, clearing her throat.

You want to react sarcastically, but you relent, "Let's find out when I stand up."

Nico nods, crawling back until she's on her knees. She gets up onto her heels, leaning forward in order to grab your hands and pull you up. You hold your breath as you ascend, feeling a sharp pain in your ankle. You can't restrain the hiss that erupts despite your efforts, and you wince as you apply weight onto the joint.

"What's wrong?" Nico asks, clearly concerned as she wraps an arm underneath yours and around your shoulder in order to support you. You try not to focus on it.

"Nothing," you bite back a groan, "I just stood up weird."

She raises an eyebrow, her skepticism obvious, "You sure?"

"Yeah," you sigh, removing yourself from her careful hold.

You know better than this – a sprained ankle should be taken care of as quickly as possible before swelling starts – but, frankly, you would take a messed up ankle instead of missing your friends' wedding any day.

 **X-X-X-X-X**

It's obvious in the way that Nico remains close to you that she is more than well aware of your lie. But you're grateful that she doesn't hassle you about it or insist that you leave to see a doctor. And, although you figure that services like these employ escorts that can maintain a neutral opinion, you believe that she genuinely cares about you – well, to some degree, at least.

It's a relief when you make it outside and into the courtyard area, a beautiful landscape of trimmed hedges, fountains, and floral elegance. You and Nico quickly find a seat toward the back rows of seats, making it in time for the vows. You nab an aisle seat, letting Nico sit beside you. A breath escapes you, an expression of gratitude to the universe for making it here on time.

"They're really cute," Nico whispers as she leans against you in order to get a better view of the couple. You ignore the way your brain flares from the slightest touch, opting to simply nod in agreement before whipping out your phone. The setting sun casts a loving glow amongst the garden, the orange rays reflecting off of the nearby lake. You feel her nudging you again, "Taking a picture for Instagram?"

Your phone's camera isn't cooperating, and you impatiently smack it against the palm of your hand in an attempt to bring it back to life. It seems to only be the camera itself rather than the other functions of the phone, but you were hoping to take a photo. You glance up, smiling for a moment as you notice a tear on Rin's cheek, before your frown returns at the reminder that you can't capture the moment.

"Guess not," Nico says, noticing your struggle. She takes out her own phone, putting her chin on your shoulder as she leans across you in order to get some good pictures. You don't protest the action, or the way her breath tickles your neck.

It's convenient, though you feel somewhat guilty that she's doing it for you. But it gives you enough leeway to simply enjoy the ceremony, your smile a genuine expression of how happy you are for your good friends. You remember the way Rin would insist upon wearing a tuxedo in order to keep some sense of traditional aesthetic for the wedding, but it made you happy to see Hanayo so adamant about both of them wearing a dress. She's only ever outspoken about things she is truly passionate about, and it isn't a surprise that Rin's happiness is one such matter. You and Hanayo are both aware of Rin's insecurity regarding femininity, and the compromise was rather sweet.

The wedding officiant is a cheery man, his smile seemingly sincere and jubilant. He requests that the flower girl and ring bearer begin their approach, and you offer a small wave at the little girl who glances at you nervously before beginning her trek down the aisle alongside the ring bearer. They're both young cousins of Hanayo, two bright-eyed brunettes with toothless smiles and rosy cheeks. They're adorable.

"Make sure you get this part, okay?" you whisper into Nico's ear, almost convinced that you feel her shudder. But you're not entirely certain.

Nico nods, "Gotcha', boss."

The entire process is sweet, and the crowd lets out a unanimous "aw" as the flower girl runs up and hugs Hanayo. The boy, too young to quite understand his role aside from what he was told to do, follows suit and wraps his arms around Rin's leg. After they kiss the young children on the head and send them back, the ceremony continues despite the giggles between the brides-to-be.

"Kids are cute…"

"Talking to yourself?" Nico asks, catching you in the act of thinking aloud.

You react too quickly, "Not at all."

"Sure," she snickers, poking you in the side. You clamp your lips shut to avoid yelping.

"I didn't know I hired a child."

"Well," Nico smirks, her chin digging itself a bit further into the skin of your shoulder in order to tease you, "then, according to your logic, that makes me cute."

She frowns when you refuse to react and acknowledge her joke, possibly jokingly disappointed that you didn't agree. Then again, you didn't deny, either.

Your attention returns instantly when the famous words, "You may now kiss the bride," ring in your ears. You nudge Nico hard, and she is immediately back to attending the camera on her phone. It's a pretty decent model, and the picture quality is pretty decent considering how much she has to zoom in. She continues to mash the button, as though unsure what constitutes a decent photo, and you're slightly worried about her phone's memory and battery.

Everyone stands and applauds as Rin and Hanayo join in a tender embrace, their lips meeting slowly but not without passion. Nico hops on her chair – you're slightly amazed at her balance, considering her heels – and continues to shoot pictures while the kiss deepens, the crowd beginning to holler wildly as Rin dips Hanayo.

You feel slightly embarrassed for watching, but you smile as you clap along with the crowd. The pair part from the kiss, keeping a tight hold on each other's hands before running back up the aisle with grins so big and bright that the sun dulls in comparison. Upon catching a glimpse of you so far back in the seats, they both wave at you fondly before continuing off for some more photos by the garden's gazebo. The officiant calls for everyone's attention, opening the doors into the dinner hall while announcing that the dining pavilion is open to all guests and that the newlyweds will be joining after cocktail hour.

You attempt to get up, only to wince and fall back onto your chair. You forgot about your foot.

"Will you just let me help you?" Nico asks, sighing as she places both hands on her hip.

"I'm fine."

"Liar," she says, wrapping an arm around you and helping you up.

You try to fight the pain as much as possible, but you wince as you fall victim to the sharp, consistent ache. You feel defeated, wishing that Nico would keep some distance.

If you're going to fall for anything, you'd rather it be an injured ankle.

 **X-X-X-X-X**

After scanning the rest of the table, you realize how grateful you are for hiring an escort. The unfortunate consequence of being the type of person who doesn't hang out in large groups is that there are no mutual friends to sit you with at formal events. But it's okay. You have Nico.

"So, do you want me to send these to your email? I deleted the blurry ones, so it shouldn't be hundreds of photos or anything," she says to you, her chair turned to face yours. She's hunched over, her nose practically buried in her phone. It would be rather disheartening to think she is bored.

You look over toward the balcony door, "You can just send them through text."

Nico seems surprised, "Really?"

"Y-Yeah, it's not a problem," you manage to say, accepting her phone as she hands it over to you. You try not to stare at the endearing background photo of what appears to be Nico with smaller versions of herself – siblings, no doubt – hugging and smiling each other in a dog pile. Instead, you quickly send yourself a confirmation text after putting your number into her phone.

"Cool," she smiles, her original posture back in place as she focuses on sending you more photos. You can feel your cell phone buzz repeatedly but, with the reasonable assumption that it's all just pictures, you ignore it.

There's an atmospheric beauty to the hall as the lights dim and the evening sky's lilac haze seeps into the room, and you find yourself feeling very happy with how things have turned out. It may come as a shock to most, but you are the major benefactor behind today's ceremonies. It was an offer you were more than glad to give, and you felt proud for persuading Rin and Hanayo into letting you give them the best day they could have. You had suggested this location out of sheer recommendation and word of mouth, but only Rin and Hanayo had gone to inspect it and confirm that it was where they wanted to get married. And, as you look around at the smiling faces and flashes of light from to-be-memorable photographs, you know you can never regret giving them this gift. It's an overwhelming feeling.

"Are you okay?" Nico asks, suddenly, and you quickly wipe away the tear that had been escaping down your cheek.

"Uh," you cough, "I'm just… really happy for them."

Nico smirks, "Dork."

There is no need for a retort because, oddly enough, you like the attention; and not necessarily for the attention in itself, but moreso in the acknowledgement of calling you by a nickname – teasing or not. It's a weird way to think, but something about it makes your heart flutter. It's as though this is more than just a job for Nico, as though she is genuinely enjoying herself by being here and by being with you. She doesn't put up a wall of formality and professionalism by any means, and she stays true to herself and remains close to you as promised. Rin and Hanayo had already returned and made their speeches – corny beyond belief but sweet enough to induce a cavity – and it proved a lot, in your opinion, when Nico chose to continue sitting with you rather than go dance or even get a drink.

You observe her in silence, the music blasting in your ears as though to stimulate the beating of your heart as you take in everything about her. The raven hair of her pigtails fall against her shoulders, the rhythmic rise and fall of her shoulders almost lulling to watch as the bright screen of her cell reflect off her face. She's focused, her eyebrows narrowed as she goes through what you assume to be many photos from earlier. The childish visage that you could have sworn she possessed has vanished, replaced by what you can only teasingly describe as a mature, grumpy imp. It doesn't sound like a step up the ladder, but there is undoubtedly something different from before. The drumming in your chest proves it.

As pathetic as it sounds, you're happy that you were lonely enough to hire company.

Multiple individuals from the table get up in order to dance, employees of the venue hiding the window paned doors with curtains in order to further immerse the guests in a dark ambiance. A DJ plays from the corner of the room, his presence incapable of hindering the dancers from enjoying the dance floor to its full extent.

Raising an eyebrow at Nico, you ask, "Are you sure you don't want to eat anything? I'm sure there's more than chicken fingers and fries."

Nico scratches her chin, "Nah, I'm only getting up to eat if there's ice cream."

You blink, "But there is ice cream."

And she's off just like that, much to your amusement. The thought that she had been, perhaps, neglecting to eat in order to watch over you flies out the window, replaced by your incomparable worth to ice cream. But it makes you laugh.

Tints of cerulean begin to glow throughout the pavilion, an accessory to the dance floor experience, and you find yourself frowning as you look over at the crowd enjoying themselves. You genuinely hate that your ankle is keeping both you and Nico from enjoying yourselves more, although you know deep down that you probably would have remained isolated had it not been for Nico in the first place. Your yearning to dance stems only from the guilt over not seeing her be able to.

You can feel yourself blushing. It shouldn't matter. But the incoming images going through your head depict an alternate universe in which you both stand at the forefront of a party surrounded by loved ones, leading a toast with champagne in celebration of your marri –

You shake your head and force yourself to stand, frustrated at the thoughts running through your mind. Uneasiness courses through you, forcing you to feel perverse in some way for even attempting to think of yourself with Nico in such a way. You only met the girl today, so the notion is nothing short of obsessive and ridiculous. Some momentary space may do you good – or lack thereof.

Forcing yourself to ignore the pain in your ankle, you find yourself nudging through the dancing guests until you reach the center. You manage to smile when Rin and Hanayo, who had been playfully jumping in place in beat to a pop song, catch sight of you and swiftly make their way closer. They hug you, a familiar force of friendliness that has never been unwelcome.

"Nya, Maki! I'm so happy you could make it," Rin shouts, making it easier to hear her over the music. Her hand continues to hold Hanayo's, which you find very cute.

Hanayo smiles, "We didn't see you when we went down the aisle the first time!"

"I was running late!" you yell back, swaying left and right as a weak excuse for blending into the scene around you. The two brides exchange a mischievous look that you don't quite understand.

"So," Rin perks up, "Who is that girl with you?!"

You're grateful for the dark lighting as your face heats up, "A friend!"

"A _girlfriend_?" Hanayo asks, her smile too cheery for your liking.

"A hired friend," you clarify, although you quickly realize that the wording was not your best.

"Did you hire _another_ prostitute?!" Rin asks, imitating a baffled expression.

You can feel your entire body shake with embarrassment, your fists balling up defensively, "Oh my god, that was literally one time and that was by accident! She got the wrong address!"

Hanayo laughs, and Rin joins in rather quickly. You sigh in defeat, knowing that you will never live it down, even though the whole thing had been one giant mistake. It doesn't take you long to laugh, too. It had been fairly funny, despite feeling slightly humiliated. But you refuse to revisit the memory.

You can feel your phone vibrate in your clutch, and you take it out in order to check your messages. There is a barrage of photos, courtesy of Nico Yazawa's photographic prowess, that you show to your friends before seeing the last text in which Nico asks where you are. Deciding that walking back would be the better option, you accept a farewell kiss on both sides of the cheeks from the newlyweds before heading back through the crowd in order to return to the table.

You're momentarily confused when the table is in sight with Nico nowhere to be found, but you're quickly relieved when you spot her heading toward the balcony door. She slips through the curtains and disappears from view.

Limping, you follow.

 **X-X-X-X-X**

"For someone who's looking for me, you sure know where to go so that I can't find you," you joke as you step onto the balcony and spot Nico leaning over the travertine railing. The music from inside the hall is barely muffled, its powerful volume reaching the outdoors with the same amount of clarity.

She turns and shrugs, "I had checked the bathroom and the garden, but you weren't at either location, so I figured I would check here."

"It's almost like you're worried about me," you smirk.

She blushes, scratching her cheek, "It's my job."

"I'm pretty sure I only paid you to be near me at a party."

She spins around so that she's leaning on the railing again, her arms folded in front of her as she faces the lake below, "I'm sorry I care."

You bite the inside of your cheek, realizing you may have pushed the joke a bit far. You hobble forward until you're leaning on the rail alongside her, your arms folded as well with your elbow almost touching hers. The lake below is gorgeous in the moonlight, distorted reflections of the crescent up above captured in the water's ripples.

"You know," you begin, nudging her shoulder gently with your own, "I actually really appreciate it."

Her chin lowers gently onto her arms, "Yeah, well, I try. How's your ankle?"

"Shitty," you respond honestly, trying to balance on one foot.

"Do you," she looks up at you from the corner of her eye, "want to go back inside? Or leave, even?"

You shake your head, "No, I'm enjoying myself." As well as her, but you neglect to mention it.

"Where were you, anyway?"

"On the dance floor."

She turns to you fully, her expression incredulous, "Are you begging for an amputation?"

You laughed, "I didn't even dance."

There is a silence that follows, and you aren't quite sure why. You look over at the garden from a distance, suddenly taking note of the angels you hadn't noticed atop the gazebo. It's beautiful, you think.

"… Did you want to?" Nico asks abruptly, taking a step back from the railing in order to hold out a hand toward you. You blush, briefly unsure as to what she's referring to before quickly remembering that you said you hadn't danced. She is looking directly as you, a strange determination in her eyes that you can't help but feel drawn to. You grab her hand as you hear a new song begin to play, your palms and fingers meeting in a soft embrace to the side, and you wonder if the world is either on your side or against you.

Gingerly placing your spare hand on her shoulder, you feel yourself shiver as she reciprocates by placing her own on your waist. You try to lead momentarily to the slow start of the song, but she takes over control fast when she leads you to step to and fro, back and forth, left and right. It's rather informal, but there's a heavy air of intimacy that you can't quite place as you dance alone with her beneath the spotlight of the moon. Perhaps it's the way that, with each step, you find yourselves closer; your heads practically nestled against each other's necks without any sense of invitation. Friendship is beginning to feel blurred to you.

The instrumental begins to pick up, and you can't help but laugh along as Nico removes her head from your neck and begins exaggerating her movements to match with the increased intensity of the song. She swings your arms together in wide motions, forcing her hips to sway in a way that could possibly break them, and even she can't take herself seriously. Her laughter is contagious, a sound that makes you happy merely by hearing it. You both find yourselves shimmying your shoulders and chests, finding fun ways to match the song with your bodies in unison. It's fun beyond belief, and you momentarily feel guilty after realizing you had totally forgotten you were at your friend's wedding.

You stumble forward by accident, you ankle giving out on you as you feel your body almost collapse on top of Nico, your head falling against her neck and shoulder. But she manages to catch you, your body leaning against Nico with all your weight before you manage to get back on your feet.

"Are you," she begins to ask, but you can feel her gulp as you bring your head back in order to look at her, "okay?"

The proximity is close, so close that your mind cries out for you to run away, and you can't stop the shaky breath that comes out of you and brushes against the hairs hanging over her forehead. Your eyes flicker between hers and her lips, and you can feel your lids drooping as the warmth of her breath pulls you down like gravity. You can feel her chest rising against your own, a sensation running its way throughout your body as you can only imagine what comes next. Your hands slowly lose their grip, moving to wrap beneath her arms and around her back in an entanglement that, frankly, you never want to let go. But, as you feel her arms wrap around your neck, you know that you won't have to.

When you lean in, you aren't sure what to expect. But you are greeted by a pair of lips that strike you like lightning, firm but soft as they light up fireworks in you ribcage. You don't even bother breaking away in order to cherish a first kiss moment, opting to only deepen the feeling hungrily as you angle your head to accommodate hers. You gently push her against the railing, your hands roaming the soft silk on her back as her fingers begin to play with your hair.

When you feel something against your lips, you open up out of reflex. You welcome her tongue with your own, a low moan rising from your throat as your breathing becomes heavier and harder to cope with until, inevitably, you part from her.

You both blush, quickly avoiding eye contact despite keeping your hold on one another.

Desperate for an end to the awkward silence, you ask, "So why don't you get hired often?"

Nico clears her throat before coughing, "My price is a little high."

And you laugh, relieved that it hadn't been an angsty backstory or tragic tale like you had expected. Then again, you don't exactly understand who would go so far as to hire this service if they didn't have some form of good wealth.

"I'm sure your price won't be a problem," you smile.

"Well," she smirks, "keep treating me like that, and I may just give you a discount."

You pout, playing along smugly, "What do I have to do to get a freebie around here? Give me a break here, I hurt my ankle."

Her fingers massage the back of your scalp, "Only romantic partners get freebies."

"Oh yeah?"

"Would you like to sign up? It's a once in a lifetime package deal," she smiles.

You chuckle, "What comes with the package?"

"You have to agree to it in order to find out," she winks, causing you to blush. You're well aware of what she's implying, and the thought already makes you anxious to think about. But, remembering the way she had been there for you throughout the day, you don't feel anything short of safe knowing that she would care for you. You've known her for less than a day, but it doesn't take very long to fall.

"Deal," you whisper, leaning forward to meet with what you already miss dearly.

Perhaps the things that weren't meant to be _are_ meant to be.


End file.
